A Life So Changed
by ballistics belle
Summary: You look up to find Cuddy standing there and you swore you could feel the ground give way beneath you as her trembling voice gave life to your greatest fear, James, it's Greg.
1. Chapter 1

**A Life So Changed**

**A/N: **I tend to find that i write some of my best stuff late at night and this one actually work me up, so hopefully the trend will continue. I don't own anyone, though i wish i had House's sarcasism.Unabashed House and Wilson slash because i just can't see House with anyone else. Please review. This is my first House fic, so i want to know what y'all think.

The first words out of his mouth are frightened and tear filled.

"Don't leave me." He pleads his voice groggy with emotion and medication. You take his hand reassuringly and tell him that you 'aren't going anywhere and to go back to sleep'. He obeys, the meds giving no other choice.

You sit back in your chair and try to get comfortable (which is nearly impossible). You hadn't lied. You haven't left his side in over three days and didn't plan to anytime soon. There's no reason to leave. Yes, your situation has changed but your feelings hadn't and deep inside you know that Greg knows that but you understand his need to say it. After everything that bitch put him through the last time, you find yourself amazed that he could ever learn to love again and truly blessed that you're the he chooses to love.

You stare at the empty part of the empty part of the blanket with a heavy heart and wonder if he even realizes that it's gone. Angry bile rises in the back of your throat as you think about the events that have transpired over the last 72 hours.

_Three days earlier…_

You had been with a patient when your door opened unexpectedly. You thought it was House, barging in as usual, so you start in on your usual reprimand until you hear it. A small, quiet voice whisper your name. You look up to find Cuddy standing there and you swore you could feel the ground give way beneath you as her trembling voice gives life to your greatest fear.

"James, its Greg."

Greg. Not House, not that jerk of yours. Greg. And that's when your body propels itself out of the chair and out the door. Behind you, you hear Lisa give your patient a hasty apology before following you down the hall way. No one told you where he is but somehow you just know. You're in a full out sprint by the time you hit the stairs (you won't waste time on an elevator). You take them two at a time and then sprint again down the hall until his office comes into view. You can't see inside yet but already you know what you'll find.

Greg is on the floor near is desk, grasping at his bad leg and screaming for someone to please kill him now. Foreman and Chase are trying to keep him still while Cameron administers what you can only assume to be morphine. Falling to your knees beside of him, you place your hands on either side of his face and pull it so he can see you.

"I'm here, Greg." You tell him. One hand leaves his thigh and reaches out for yours.

"Oh God, James! It hurts, make it stop, just make it stop!" Tears are now pouring down his face as he begins to sob. You grab his free hand tightly and bring it to your lips. Your own tears have caused your voice to fail momentarily and in that moment, his eyes close slowly and his grip goes weak in yours. Panic grips your chest when you hear Foreman speak.

"He's passed out from the pain. We need to get him up onto a gurney so we can figure out what the hell happened to him." The ducklings hurry around you. You remain still. You already know what happened. It's the same thing that happened all those years ago. Only this time, _you're_ here and _you're _going to stay no matter how hard it gets.

When the ducklings return with a gurney and a whole slew of medical professionals, some part of you cringes because you know that House wouldn't want all of these people to see him like this. You're quickly pushed out of the way as they start IV's and check his vitals. Foreman barks out orders and you find it somewhat interesting how hard he's working to save a man he claims to hate. You watch as they leave with him and Cuddy enters.

She wears the same look of dread, fear and knowing that you do. She's been through this before and she hates having to go through it again. Neither of you say anything as she takes you by the arm and leads you down the hall where the two of you can watch through the glass. As you watch them hurry about desperately trying to help him, you whisper pleadingly:

"Don't leave me."


	2. Chapter 2

Hours (though it feels more like years) later, the tests confirm what you already knew. Another infarction had killed what remained of his thigh muscle and a good percentage of his calf. Cuddy goes over the options with you but you know the reality. The muscle death is too great. The leg is totally useless and a bypass is out of the question. His only good chance of survival is amputation. The word hits you like a slap in the face. You know House could deal with being a cripple but an amputee? You might as well let him die.

Cuddy explains to you about how he can learn to use a prosthetic but you don't hear it. '_House does not want his leg cut off_,' your mind screams. '_He made that clear the first time!_' Lisa stares at you sympathetically and you think she wants you to make a decision.

And what a decision it is. Option A; let him keep his leg and watch him slowly die but keep him from pushing you away or Option B; cut the leg off, forcing him to be an amputee and risk him pushing you away for good. Tears flood your eyes and somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Greg mocking you for being such a crybaby.

"I can't do it." You cry. Lisa lays a hand on your arm.

"I know, you don't have to." You look up at her, surprise replacing the tears.

"What?"

"You're not his medical proxy, James, I am." Your expression doesn't change so she goes on. "When you two became serious, House realized that if anything like this were to happen again, he didn't want you to have to make this decision."

Your shoulders shake with heavy sobs because you know that House really _does_ love you.


	3. Chapter 3

_Present…_

He wakes you up at 2am calling your name.

"Jimmy….Jimmy…." His voice is soft and cracking and you could almost believe that you two are back in the apartment and he's calling out to you with a completely different kind of need. But that dream fades as he continues to call to you, each one more desperate. "Jimmy help!...it hurts, it hurts so bad!" You're up quickly and at his side.

"Where Greg, where does it hurt?"

"My leg. Please Jimmy." You hurry over to the other side of the bed and start to massage his thigh like you used to with his bad leg.

"No Jimmy," He grabs your hand to stop you. "My other leg." Your body freezes as you stare at the empty side. Phantom pains. House still thinks that he feels pain in a limb he no longer has.

"Don't just stand there Jimmy. I need you." But you can't move. How are you supposed to help him? Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find the words to tell him that the pain really _is_ in his head. But instead you just stand there looking like a fish.

"Here House, this should help the pain." You look up to find Cuddy on the other side of the bed, pushing meds into his IV. His eyes flutter closed and his mummers of help die on his lips. Lisa comes around to you and takes your hands off his remaining leg. "Its okay, James."

"I…he…his leg…he didn't…"

"I know. Unfortunately it's only the beginning. It'll get worse once he knows that it's gone." She can see the question in your eyes and answers. "It had to be done. He would have died if we hadn't." She's told you that five times since the surgery, but it doesn't help, especially not now.


	4. Chapter 4

It's a week before House wakes up again.

"Hey poohbear." Warmth fills you as his rough, crackling voice calls you by your pet name.

The pet name. It had started over a year ago when House stumbled across an old Whinnie the Pooh cartoon at some ungodly hour of the night (he might have been drunk but you can't remember). He usually only used the name to irritate or embarrass you but on rare occasions, his name calling is actually out of pure affection and today, when he calls to you, you can feel the love behind it.

"You look like shit, Jimmy." And he's right, you do.

Your clothes are wrinkled and fit poorly from the 5 or 10 lbs you know you've lost. Your eyes are red and bloodshot from lack of sleep and crying and your "Jew fro" as House so crudely puts it, is hanging limply on top of your head from lack of proper primping. You've only been catching quick showers in the bathroom in his room every now and then so your hair has been forced to dry naturally.

Not that you give a damn about how your hair looks but House sure does, or at least that's what he's trying to make it seem. That everything is normal because he can tell by the look on your face that it's not.

"Greg-" You start but he cuts you off.

"Seriously Jimmy, you couldn't have asked Cameron or Cuddy or-hell-even Chase to borrow a blow dryer so you could look hot for me when I-"

"Greg," You say again, this time with more force. He shuts up quickly and you can see his bottom lip quiver slightly. "You had another infarction. Your leg-"

"I know, James. I know." He turns his head away from you. "I knew when the pain started." Your stomach sinks as you see the tears gloss over his eyes. You grab his hand, expecting him to pull away but instead he grabs it tighter, pulling you closer. When the first tear falls down his cheek, you pull him into your arms and hold him as he sobs heavily.

"I'm sorry, James. I should have told you when the pain got worse. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." His words are muffled by your shirt but their meaning isn't.

House knew. He knew and yet he said nothing and you noticed nothing. Somewhere in your mind you know you should be upset, guilt ridden and maybe even hurt but you're just too damn emotionally drained to care. Besides, even if House had told you earlier the outcome would still be the same. There was little muscle left after the first one, the second one just finished the job.

You continue to hold and rock and soothe House until his sobs become hiccups and then his breathing finally evens out. As you lay him back on the bed, you graze your hand over his cheek to wipe away the remaining wetness. You then place a chaste kiss to his forehead.

"I love you, Greg." You back away and are almost out the door when you hear his murmur.

"Jimmy…love you more."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **This part does deal with some kind of touchy subject matter, so I give you fair warning.

Depression sets in around the same time House's parents do and you know the two are connected.

House has never had a good relationship with his parents, so you don't understand why they're here or how they even found out. You didn't call them and House sure as hell didn't, so you assume that it must have been one of the ducklings aka Cameron. Three days later, you find out that it was actually Cuddy who made the call and you're angry with her. Cameron you could forgive for not knowing any better but Cuddy has no excuse.

When you confront her about it, she tells you that they have a right as parents to know that their son's leg was cut off. You want to counter that they lost that right when they basically abandoned him the first time, leaving him in Stacy's care until she abandoned him as well but you hold your tongue. The situations are different. House is different…

…and now it makes sense (in a perverse and irritating way) why they would come now. It's you. You and House. When House was crippled the first time, he was straight. Now he's in love with you and suddenly mommy and daddy pretend to give a damn when you're almost certain that the only reason they're there is to make sure you aren't taking advantage of him.

You don't even want to be in the same room but you refuse to leave House alone with them, so you sit there next to him on the bed, hands intertwined and suffer through.

Blythe sits in the chair next to the bed, blabbering on about nothing, oblivious to the state her son is currently in, while John stands behind her, arms folded across his chest, disapproval radiating off him like heat off asphalt on a hot summer day.

"It's so nice to see you again, James. How's Julie?" His mother still refuses to believe that you're actually a couple even after almost three years and so she still asks about your exes.

"Remarried." You reply as nicely as possible. "But thanks for asking."

Greg looks up at you with innocent, almost pained eyes, and you squeeze his hand and smile. You know this is killing him and you make a mental note to bitch Cuddy our later. Blythe prattles on about family members that you're sure House doesn't even know and if he does, doesn't give a damn about.

"Oh Greg, your cousin Michael just got engaged to the sweetest girl and she's got a sister who's just as nice as can be. You've just got to meet her. I know you would-"

"I don't want to meet her, mom." House states in a low, threatening tone.

"Oh don't be like that, Greg. You don't want to be alone forever now do you?" His eyes narrow and his voice drops even lower.

"I'm not alone. I'm with James." He looks up at you again. "I love James."

"Yes but-"

"But nothing." Blythe's lower lip trembles as she tries not to cry.

"Why do you have to be this way?!"

"And what way is that, mom? Gay? Homosexual?" House snaps.

"Greg, stop." John commands but House is just getting started.

"No, you stop! Stop with the hate, stop with the lies, stop with the disapproval, stop pretending I'm something I'm not! I'm gay. I'm in love with James Wilson, who's my best friend and a man. So either accept that or get out." He shouts. His mother stands and his father leads her out with a disgusted look at the two of you as she starts to cry.

When they're out of sight House slumps against you, completely drained from his rant. You wrap your arm around his shoulder and place a kiss on top of his head. You've never been prouder of him than at that very moment. He stood up for you but more importantly, he stood up for himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **So this chapter has both Wilson's and House's perspectives. I promise that I don't mean to write Cuddy as bitchy as I have been and I promise she'll get nicer as time goes on.

You leave House a few mornings later with a heavy heart.

He hasn't said more than one word responses since his parents left and you worry that his depression will start to hinder his recovery. He's supposed to start physical therapy today and you want to be there with him but Cuddy fears that you'll be too much of a distraction and refuses to let you go (as if you weren't already pissed at her). So you take a few appointments to keep you occupied while you have to be away.

When you first tell him that you won't be there, his eyes widen for a second before he turns his head away. Guilt tears you apart when you lean down to give him a kiss and he turns away. So you pat his shoulder instead and give it a little squeeze. As you walk out, you tell him you love him and you'll see him later.

You don't realize the mistake you've just made by leaving.

HW/HW/HW/HW/HW/HW/HW/HW

You wanted Wilson to stay. You wanted him to reassure you when you fell on your face in PT. You wanted him to encourage you to keep trying, hear him tell you, 'Just one more, Greg, I know you can do it.' But instead you're forced to listen to some blonde ditz give you fake praise. Her voice is an octave above annoying and you're pretty sure you'd crush her if you fell on her.

The hour drags by at a painfully slow pace until she finally brings you back to your room. She stays for a few more minutes to tell you about being fitted for a prosthetic next week. You don't care. You just want her to leave and Wilson to come back. When she finally leaves, you glance over at the clock and groan. You still have a half hour by yourself.

You decide to sleep the time away and have just closed your eyes when there's a knock at your door. You curse whatever duckling has decided to come and bother you, but when you open your eyes again, the situation turns out to become worse than you expected.

The biggest heartache of your life and the woman who has cost you the most pain both physically and emotionally is standing there, trying to look sheepish.

"Hi Greg." She greets quietly as she takes a few steps into your room.

"Stacy." You try to say her name as cold as possible but your mouth is dry and pulse is increasing rapidly making your breathing shallow.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, coming in even further before sitting in Wilson's chair. Wilson. Now you really regret letting him leave. If he were here, Stacy wouldn't have even gotten the tip of her pointy little shoe in the door. But James isn't here, hindsight is 20/20 and you don't have the guts to kick her out (you never have).

"Why are you here?" You ask, ignoring her question.

"I heard about what happened and despite what you may think, I do still care about you." She replies gently likes she's trying not to hurt you.

'_You're about ten years too late_' you think but actually say.

"Boy, good news travels fast around here. Lemme guess, Cuddy again?"

"No, your mother actually." You shake your head. You should have figured she'd do something like this.

"So what, did you come to gloat? Say I told you so? Cause if so, I already know. You win, I lose." _Trust me; _you think to yourself, _I've lost more than you know. _

"No Greg, I didn't come to gloat. I came out of genuine concern fro you. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yeah actually, it is. Especially since this is what you wanted in the first place." You snap. Now any normal person you know would back off at this point, try to act embarrassed or ashamed, but Stacy loves a good fight.

"No, I didn't _want _you to lose your leg, but it was the better option. And think of all the years you wasted in pain. You could have been so much happier and healthier if you had just let me do this the first time." She tries to cut you down with logic but you're much better at fighting dirty than she is.

"Would you have stayed with me if I had?" She doesn't answer. "That's what I thought." She gives you a dirty look. You know it was a low blow and you don't care. "Besides, I didn't have a choice this time."

"You shouldn't have had a choice the first time! You could have died back then!" She shouts at you.

"I _would _have died this time." You retort. She shakes her head.

"So it's okay for James to want you to live but not me?"

"Wasn't his decision either." You state.

"Trust issues?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. You shake your head.

"I love him too much to put him in that position……but could you blame me if it was?" She stands and throws her hands in the air.

"You're never gonna let me live down the fact that I crippled you, are you? You're always gonna hang that over my head." You stare her down but say nothing because she's right, you will always hold it against her. "I'm sorry, Greg. I'm sorry that I wanted you to live. If I'd have known what a miserable jerk you'd turn into I'd have let you die." She grabs her purse and starts towards the door. "You used to be a pretty great guy and you could have still been that guy. But instead you chose to wallow and hide behind your disability and waste your gift." She stops at the door and looks you in the eye. "You were right; your life is worth less than mine."

HW/HW/HW/HW/HW/HW/HW

When you return to House only two hours later, the feeling in the room has turned dark, angry. You think it has something to do with PT until you take a good look at him and realize that it's much bigger than that.

House is staring off into nothing, tear stains on his cheeks, totally oblivious to your presence. You sit down on the edge of the bed and touch his arm. It shouldn't have surprised you when he flinched and pulled away from you it does and you hate it.

"How was physical therapy?" He shrugs his shoulders. You'd push for more but you know that even on a good day you wouldn't get more of an answer than that.

The two of you sit in total silence for a few minutes before it starts to drive you crazy and you begin to babble on about your morning and anything else you can think of just to keep away the feeling of impending doom that has begun to fill the room. You talk to yourself for about a half hour before you snap.

"You gotta talk to me, Greg." You tell him. "I can't do this. I can't just sit here and pretend like nothing's wrong when it's obvious that something is." He doesn't do anything and you're about to start pulling your hair out when he finally speaks.

"Stacy came to see me." His voice is so soft you don't hear him.

"What?"

"Stacy. She was here when you were gone." You hear him loud and clear this time and you feel sick.

The one person you vowed to protect him from, over his father, over Tritter, was Stacy Warner. And then the moment you're gone, she swoops in and breaks him like she always does. Your fists clench as a white hot rage seizes through you. Greg can see the anger in your eyes.

"Don't hate her, Jimmy." He tells you in almost a warning tone.

"Why not, Greg?" You yell, your anger getting the best of you. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't despise her?"

"Because she's not worth it." He says, speaking from experience. Your rage subsides slightly and your fists unclench but you're still angry despite House's plea.

You'll always hate Stacy Warner. You'll just never let House know.

**A/N: **Just got finish watching House and it has the almost amazing scene for House/Wilson fans. That's all I'm going to say. That and Wilson looked really good in street clothes ::smiles and giggles girlishly::


	7. Chapter 7

After the whole Stacey fiasco, you thought it would be best to try to focus on the positive to try to keep House's spirits up

After the whole Stacey fiasco, you thought it would be best to try to focus on the positive to try to keep House's spirits up. So you talk to him a lot about his upcoming session with his new prosthetic and about how much better things were going to be when he could walk again. In retrospect though, it might not have been as good of an idea as you thought because when House rolled into that therapy room a week later, he was determined to leave it on two feet and failure just wasn't an option.

House begged you to be there that morning and you knew it was a double edged sword he was handing you. If he did walk today (and it was an insurmountable if) then you of course wanted to be there to see it. But if he fell (which was more of a when than an if) then you would both hate yourself for being there. Still, when it came time, you walked in beside him, hand on his shoulder and an encouraging smile on your face.

"Good morning Dr. House, Dr. Wilson." His physical therapist, the tiny blonde whose name was Jayna but whom House referred to as 'Minnie', greeted you as you walked in. You smiled and greeted her back but House had no time for pleasantries.

"Where's my leg?" He barked.

"Right over here." Jayna walked over to a table and pulled the prosthetic off of it.

As soon as you got a good look at it, you know it'll never do. The leg looked more like a piece of machinery with its steel gray color and exposed hardware and you wondered if there's a way to paint flames on it.

House had rolled over to the table while you were pondering paint jobs and Jayna began to show him how to attach the limb.

"Now it's going to be uncomfortable when you first start, but once you develop a good callus the discomfort should be minimal." She explained as she rolled House over to the walking bars.

"Yeah yeah yeah, let's take this baby for a test run." House urged.

"Let's work on standing first and then _maybe _we'll see about taking a few steps." House rolled his eyes as Jayna helped him up out of the wheelchair. "Now hold onto the bars to steady yourself and just get used to standing on it."

As soon as House set his feet on the floor, you knew there could only be trouble ahead.

"How does it feel Dr. House?" Jayna asked.

"It's fine." He growled and you could tell by the white in his knuckles and veins showing in his arms that he was anything but. "Now let's move." You watched the skepticism wash over Jayna's face.

"Let's just focus on getting use to standing on it. Walking will come soon enough."

"I said I'm fine. I can do it." He insisted.

"Don't push it, House." You said, finally interfering. He shot you a look that simply said, 'Back Off'.

"I'm ready! I can do this!" He snapped. The physical therapist looked back over her shoulder at you for some kind of guidance as to how to proceed. You just shrug. If House has his mind set on this, then the only thing that was going to stop him was his own broken body.

"Alright," She conceded with a sigh as if she wasn't completely comfortable with this. "When you're ready, step off with your left leg then lift the prosthetic-**don't** try to bend it right now-and put it back down gently. Keep both hands on the bars at all times or you'll lose your balance. That will come with time and experience." Jayna explained with extreme caution in her voice. Somehow she had enough sense to not hover by him.

The second his prosthetic leaves the ground, you knew it was all going to crashing down before your eyes and there's nothing you could do to stop it.

When the metal hits the mat, it buckles under him and gives out, sending him face first into the ground. Jayna reached him first and tried to help him but he just swung at her and screamed at her.

"Get the fuck away from me!" You knelt down on his other side and gave her a silent cue to back off.

"House, are you okay?" You asked calmly. "Did you hurt anything when you fell?" '_Besides your pride'_ you added in your head.

"Do not fucking touch me!" He screamed when you put your hand on his back.

"Greg, you knew this was going to take time. You didn't know how to walk right away when you were a baby and you couldn't walk right away when you had the infarction." He picked his head up off the mat and glared at you.

His face was red and wet from the sweat and tears running down it. The tears didn't surprise you as much as the look in his raging blue eyes. Pain, shame, anger, hate are expected to be there but it's the fear, disappointment and defeat that made your stomach sink.

"Do not patronize me, _**James**_. I am not one of your patients and I'm not one of your goddamn wives that you can talk down to! So don't you dare tell me what I'll have to do. You have no right, not until you lose a limb!" House slammed his fists down on the mat and threw his head back down. "Goddamnit! Just leave me alone!" You take your hand off his back, stand and head towards Jayna.

"I'm going to go get 5mg of Atavan to calm him down so we can move him. Just, let him be for now. He'll only hate you for it if you try to help him." She nodded and stayed standing in the corner to keep watch.

When you got outside the door, you leaned back against it and rubbed your eyes. You knew this was a mistake. You knew he was going to fail. You knew.

You always know.


End file.
